Today, I thought I might make a little movie using some excellent footage I got at the beach, of two lively dogs playing at the water's edge. I was thinking I might revive a poem I wrote quite a while ago called "Shoreline Grammar," which has dogs playing in it. This merely required me to find a copy of the poem, then I could begin fussing around with iMovie &c., fussing around being a good way to learn at least some basic stuff. But first I had to put my hands on the poem, or at least, that's what I figured a logical first step would be.
About eleven or twelve file folders later--and these are actual files, the people, files made from paper--I found (get this!) a handwritten copy of the poem, which I believe I actually had made copies of and took them to my writing group, because it also had my notes from the group.
Please consider these details: Handwritten copy. Paper files. Twelve file folders later.
But now I have it, this sad little handwritten poem, and I have made a digital file of it, started digging around in the Indo-European roots, blah blah blah. The project will happen. It's just, the pre-production around here is such a nightmare.
(file this under: Chaos and Disorder and Stuff.)